Don't Forget that April 25th is World Penguin Day

Come to find out, there’s a celebration (or two) every day of the year (April 30th is National Honesty Day, and I'm already planning to have an honest discussion with myself). This Saturday, April 25^th, is World Penguin Day, a celebration of the beginning of the annual northward migration of the Antarctic’s Adelie penguins. I’m a big fan of the penguin. Not just for their obvious cuteness, but for their tenacity, their loyalty and their attention to detail.

Six things you can do to increase awareness of this marvelous penguin journey:

1. Take a friend to the zoo -- or if you can’t muster the penguin perseverance to make it there, watch this video from the lazy comfort of your home: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHJWtLhHoE0
2. Attend a penguin parade -- or if that’s too much trouble, too, watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hocght2zfhA
3. Read a book about a penguin to your child. Or better yet, play a penguin game: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/marchofthepenguins/game/
4. Wear black and white (tuxedos are optional).
5. Walk around your block a bazillion times in solidarity.
6. Honk.

So, take a little time Saturday to wish them well. Happy trails, Penguins!!! Take a sweater.

Elizabeth Strout Wins the 2009 Pulitzer for Fiction

Frankly, THIS just says so much about ME (ha). Elizabeth Strout has been my personal favorite since I heard her read from her first novel, Amy and Isabelle, at the Mississippi University for Women's Eudora Welty Symposium in 2001. It was a life-changing event, and I even wrote her a thank-you note.

I only hope Oprah doesn't ask her to be a guest, because we can't let just anyone into the exclusive fan club. Ms. Strout is charmingly unaware of how inspirational she is, and all this world needs is another worked-up Oprah audience.

Yellow

I’m brushing up on my procrastination skills (brought on by lots of work to do this weekend) and I thought sharing would postpone acting responsibly even more.

At True Value Paint’s website, you can match your personality to a color.

I am a Yellow, which means:

You are quite the powerful thinker. It’s this talent that allows you to overcome a plethora of great obstacles. Luckily, this doesn’t affect your ego and you give off a pretty easy-going appearance. You enjoy the finer things in life and also have an attraction to art. If you can help it, you try not to rock the boat. But you also can’t stop yourself from searching for new ideas, methods or styles.

Click here to find out what color you are. (Loitering time = ~ 4 minutes)

And Boys On The Side

My Easter weekend visiting my good friend, Lisa, in Lexington didn’t start out so well. Friday was full of tornadoes, storms, wind, rain….and holiday traffic. Though not crucified, I was definitely persecuted. :) At one point in my quest to avoid wrecks, I found myself passing a sign that said “265 END” and making a U-turn at another sign that read, “No bridge to Kentucky” in Utica, Indiana. Thank God it was daylight, because I could definitely have missed the signs and ended up in the river. Biblical, right?

Anyway, the five-hour trip for a three-hour destination aside, it couldn’t have been more fun. I miss having a gal friend to chat with and laugh with and make fun of boys with. And Lisa was the perfect antidote for all three.

I met Annie (I still just want to throw a big ol’ red ball to her) and Austin (who I wanted to take home despite not liking cats at all), got a tour of her cute home, and went to dinner at Ramsey’s for a nice meal and a catch-up.

Saturday morning, we spent some time shopping in Joseph Beth Books and then met up with a couple of friends of Lisa’s at the Bronte Bistro for lunch. Then, off to the Three Chimneys Farm for a tour and a close-up visit with Big Brown, the winner of last year’s Derby and Smarty Jones, winner of a past Derby, I believe.

Apparently, after horses win races and become famous, they retire and breed. Nice life if you can get it. I should clarify, because between breeding, there’s some modeling involved. Big Brown spent a lot of the time prancing and sprinting and posing for the cameras. And I mean exactly that. He would see someone pull out a camera and he’d stop and turn his head to this side and that. If we walked away too soon, he’d run ahead of us and pose so we wouldn’t forget to take more pictures as we left him.

While walking the farm, we saw a horse cemetery, Seattle Slew’s statue and tombstone and, of course, rolling hill after rolling hill. Gorgeous. I don’t know the last time I’ve spent or enjoyed so much time in nature. I’ve only walked in grass the last few years when I’m either walking the dog or mowing it. Note to self: walk in grass more.

The walking paths were all cushiony for the horsies’ feet, too. Poor things, they’re so mistreated. Well, this does bring one to the breeding barn. And the mares. And the boots, the KY jelly, the lip twitches, the sticks, the balancing supplies. Oh my. At least they get a teaser and a semblance of a bath beforehand. The highlights for the female persuasion in any species, I suppose.

The sweetest little country man named Sage (I think?) tried to explain the breeding process with a straight face. I kept one eye on him the entire time, because the mounting pressure was visible in his little round, red cheeks, lingering glances to the ground, and shuffling of his feet, and he was just too cute not to bother. I know he breathed a sigh of relief when he had no takers on watching the deed get done. (Yes, horse porn was part of the $5 tour!)

Then, we visited The Horse Park, which is in the midst of preparing for the 2010 World Equestrian Games (a first in this country, I learned ), and then made a decision to brave the crowd at Keeneland where we met up with bistro friends and an out-of-town uncle and friend. Where’s Karen? Oh, she’s with people at the race today. If you had told me this ten years ago, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it. But what an experience! The collection of horses busting through the finish line is definitely something to see. Not to mention the ladies all dressed up in sundresses (it was 50 degrees, but never mind) and stilettos and the men in pastel seersucker and corduroy suits. And the sheer money of it all.

The boys with us couldn’t have been lovelier. Nice, polite, funny, considerate breaths of fresh air. And the added bonus of some timely ego entertainment. Someone has to know everything, after all, and thank God, ‘cause where would we be?

Next we went to a friend’s barn for feeding of the goats duty. Albert, Rachel and I can’t remember the other one’s name. Their favorite treats are Wheat Thins – whose isn’t? It was evening and we (Lisa, that is, I just watched ) had to close the barn, which is something I’ve seen on The Andy Griffith Show when Jubil Foster closes his barn still for the day, but never in real life.

Sunday was another nice, lingering chat, sushi for Easter lunch, and a sunny, clear, and uneventful ride home.

I’m so happy for the trip and had such a nice time and visit with a great friend, but I must admit that I'm especially proud of how well-behaved I was around people and, even more so, all the boys. I’m not used to so much interaction, but I think I did very well - for a middle-aged curmudgeon, that is – which gives me hope for my more fun side on the other side of menopause.

It’s Wednesday now, and I’m still re-adjusting. Returning to Indiana after a wonderful trip away is, I imagine, a lot like re-entering the atmosphere from space for an astronaut. A little ear-popping, returned weightiness and a whole lot of melancholy for happier and more exciting times.

Britain's Definitely Got The Talent

At the risk of jumping on the Interwebs' bandwagon about Susan Boyle: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I wonder if the reaction would be the same in America. I hope so, but I'm not sure.

Poor Derek

I had my annual flat tire on Friday. Luckily, I was near a gas station, so I pulled over and assessed the damage. Flat doesn’t quite do it justice, because the tire was really just wrinkled up around the rim that was touching the ground. It was a lovely Spring Indiana day – freezing cold and gusts of 30 mph – so I got back into my car pretty quickly and called to say I’d be late for an early meeting.

Then I called Free411 for the number to Big O Tires.

“Hello, Big O Tires. This is Derek.”

I explained the situation and asked about a mobile service. Derek said they didn’t really do that, but, if I could wait, he could come down after the morning rush and put on my spare tire.

“Well, Derek, here’s the thing. I don’t really have one of those.” (Lost it in last year’s blow-out and haven’t gotten it replaced because anything in my trunk isn’t really a part of my life anymore.) I went on, “I guess I’ll have to call Allstate Motor Club for a tow to you. It’s a shame, too, because I’m only about ¼ mile away. But I really appreciate your offer.”

“Have you tried airing it up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Putting air in it. You said you were at a gas station.” It was at this point that I knew Derek would talk about me for the rest of the day.

So, I aired it up, slowly drove the ¼ mile to the tire store, made the walk of shame to the counter and then waited on the diagnosis. “Your tire’s had it. The rest are in fair condition, but I noticed that none are the same. Do you plan to put a set on soon?”

“They come in sets?”

He laughed a little. I explained that I have annual tire catastrophes and haven’t really had the chance to buy a complete set. Plus, now that the car is 11 years old and could die at any time, new tires would just look silly, sort of like a really old woman with brown hair.

“For you, I recommend a used tire in comparable condition that comes with a 30-day guarantee.”

Thanks to Derek and his quick thinking, the whole thing cost me $35. And 75 cents for the air.

Life Magazine Online Again, But Better

LIFE and Getty Images, the two most recognized names in photography, have created Life.com so we can wander through the legendary LIFE archives - for free! More than 3,000 new photos added every day.

How this came about (again) is pretty interesting: Wall Street Journal, Life Magazine is Reincarnated Online

This issue is the first one after the day I was born. The feature story was "Point of No Return for Everybody" about automation eliminating jobs. And a story that made the cover was about an injustice in our justice system. Crazy. 46 years later and not much has changed after all.

Technical Writer Torture

Situation: There are gobs of flowcharts. So many that people roll their eyes at the mere mention of them. At first, I thought they reproduced at night when all the lights were off. Sort of like cockroaches. Despite folks’ pleas to management to stop producing them, they are continuously created.
Goal: Because management thinks people are merely confused by the flowcharts, they want to develop a process document that explains at a high level what they do. From there, they can add support documentation on “work practices” (don’t say procedures in the office, it’s comparable to saying bomb in the airport). Everything would be in easy-to-find, connected, textual presentations to alleviate the reliance on people grasping a bunch of willy-nilly flowcharts.
Nine months later and the umpteenth dance around the goal: Manager sends my first draft of process doc to Director for opinion.
Result: Director sends reply email to Manager:
----------
From: Director
To: Manager
Cc: Senior Manager
RE: Processes_All_Phases.doc

I did a quick read, looks pretty good. One thought: Might be easy to get lost in the process. I wonder if a high level flowchart (with brief descriptions of what the process is and why it’s done) would help?
------------

Employee of the Month

The original e-mail is actual correspondence. However, the names have been changed to protect the ignorant. The reply is, of course, completely made up.

-----Original Message-----

From: HR Manager
Sent: Friday, July 16th,  2:49 PM
To: Corporate Employees
Subject: Employee of the Month announcement

We are excited about our new Employee of the Month program. Recognition for our accomplishments is way overdue! The program will officially begin on August 1st. All employees (with the exception of our VPs) are eligible.

At the end of each month, Misty Puckett, our HR clerk, will randomly draw a name from the list of corporate employees. The lucky winner will be our Employee of the Month and have exclusive parking privileges to the best spot on the lot for the following month.

In an effort to “equalize” the chance to win, we will limit the opportunity to win to once per calendar year. Our first drawing will be Friday, July 30th in the cafeteria. See you there!!

------Reply Message-------

From: A thrilled and humbled employee
Sent: Friday, July 16th, 2:49 PM
To: HR Manager
Subject: Re: Employee of the Month announcement

First: Thank You! I’m sure everyone is as excited as I am about the new Employee of the Month reward. I also know we are all equally inspired to put forth our best efforts for the company by the random name selection from a hat process.

However, I’d like to offer the following alternative to alleviate the nervous anxiety and heartbreaking disappointment employees might feel at a public drawing each month. Additionally, it would require even less effort and thought from the HR office.

Why not just assign us each a number and then assign a number to each month for the next 10 years (since there are approximately 100 employees)? Everyone will know the exact month that they need to work extra hard to deserve this honor. And the company would be guaranteed one good month from each of us. For example, if my boss knows that I get the parking space in February 2012, he might want to load me up with work in January so I can be fittingly rewarded for my accomplishments.

And think about turnover! Personally, I know that if I were aware that my month was coming in April 2009, I certainly wouldn’t want to quit until May.

Announcements could be made over the intercom on the first day of each month as follows: “Attention all employees: Number 32 is Employee of the Month this month! Thank you, Number 32 for your hard work and congratulations on your lucky position in the hat.” This would save time away from our desks, and hat and scissor expenses for the company.

I’m sure you already see the positive effects of this plan on productivity, morale, and more importantly, your effort. Of course, your plan’s good too. Just a suggestion.

Yin and Yang

I have found that it’s best for me not to post anything here when I can’t be positive. There is a lot to be positive about, but, you know how it is, some folks, especially we menopausal ones, find it hard to think about anything but the negative at times. So, I’ll spare my little Interwebs tract of land the whine fest. There are people in Ethiopia, after all.

I leave for New York City tomorrow. As I say it aloud in my head as I type, I can’t not sound like the salsa guy. I’m happy but in the middle of my normal nervous phase right before any trip involving airports. It’s not the plane, just the airport. Once I’m on the plane, I’ll be fine, so there is that.

Let me try another tack to be positive here: I just know my personal space won’t be violated while touring the city like a Japanese person. Besides, it can’t be any more violated than sitting in a cubicle surrounded by folks from Plainfield, Indiana. Damn. Do you see my struggle? This little skirmish between good thoughts and bad can be serious. But, luckily, I could be in a whole different frame of mind in an hour.

Unrelated thought - The Goodbye Girl was on cable this weekend and it’s a personal favorite. I googled Quinn Cummings and found that she has a blog called the QC Report and a new book coming out in July. Her blog is quite funny – she blogged yesterday (the day after the movie aired) about an increase in traffic and the google search terms people used to find her. Cute.

There it was. Positive. For a minute anyway. ‘Cause there are things like the cubicle and the airport to think about.

National Procrastination Week

I live with a quandary every day. I suffer from blank-page-a-phobia, yet I seem to be striving for excellence in procrastination. The combination is a vicious circle: my procrastination produces my blank page and my blank page perpetuates my procrastination.

From what I’ve learned about other writers, I’m not alone.

Most people think procrastinators are just poor time managers. But I don’t think it’s about time. It’s about distraction. And most of the time it’s distraction, I, for one, seek out!

For example, I can come up with any reason why my environment isn’t right for my creativity. Right now, I don’t feel like I have the right chair next to my desk in my home office. I want to Google for chairs. I want to make a list of furniture places to visit this weekend. If the weather is good. I wonder what the weather will be next week for my trip. I could research and plan this for the next few hours. And by that time, Judge Judy will be on and I hate to miss her. Then I have to cook some dinner and feed the dog, then it’s not really work time anymore. Then it’s dark. Then I might yawn. Then, I should probably go to bed. Ooo, it sure would be nice to have fresh sheets. I should wash my sheets. Let me go start a load of laundry.

See? And my consciousness returns to a blank page, which starts the cycle all over again.

At least I recognize that I need help. First step, so I’ve heard. I wonder what the second step is. I, of course, turn to Google to search for procrastination solutions.

Did you know that the second week in March is National Procrastination Week? Wonder if that’s to celebrate it or overcome it? I should look into how that designation came to be. How does one declare a Week like that? Is there a Week wizard? Lord, help me.

There seems to be a consensus:

Do what you hate (not “hate”, but what you find overwhelming) FIRST, even before the inevitable morning self-talk can start. And for a short period of time - just for 5 minutes. And every single day. They say consistency is the key, especially when forming a habit. 

Divide any task into tinier tasks. If you have a novel to write, break that down into chapters, then into pages, then into scenes, then into paragraphs. So, write a paragraph a day. Blank-page-a-phobia is alleviated by just one sentence on a page, so I guarantee that if you have a goal of writing one paragraph each morning, the mere words on the page will make you write more. Some suggest creating a daily procrastination worksheet that lists the pieces of your task with completion dates - like weekly goals, monthly goals. Personally, this would just give me a new procrastination tool. I already have a project spreadsheet on which I just love to change the row colors every day to avoid writing. 

Use the Law of Attraction to send your intention to the Universe. Say positive sentences of visualization and expectation. For example, rather than “I procrastinate and suffer from blank-page-a-phobia”, say “I am writing to fill up the page.” To me, this one is the most important. First morning affirmations are so powerful and, in my experience, typically invoke hope, peace, confidence, and gratitude – key ingredients for a successful and productive day.

I should hear the angels singing any minute now. Let me be still to receive. Closing my eyes to receive. Wow, a nap sure would be nice right now. I can’t take a nap. I need to run errands this afternoon. Speaking of, I need to start my food shopping list. Why can’t I ever find a pen when I need one? Need a new system for keeping up with my pens……

Do-Over

Thanks to ingenious Web designer, Melody Watson, you’ll notice a new look here, and, hopefully, love it as much as I do.

I’m focusing more on my freelance business this year and wanted my site to reflect that. I also wanted it to be more reflective of me. I think she hit the nail on the head - even though she called the site ‘elegant’ once and well….while ever so close, it's not my exact aura :). For me, it has a northeastern, coastal, clean, crisp, beach-y, writer vibe and that’s me…in my dreams, anyway.

Anyway, I hope you’ll look around a while, come back often, and remember my name and this swanky new site whenever you have an itch for something wonderful to be written.

Excuse The Mess...

...during my re-construction. Big to-dos going on. Ch-ch-ch-changes, one might say have said in 1972.

I hope you don't stop by and think, "Who the heck is this Karen Rutherford and why is she so color and font and alignment blind?"

Newfangled site coming soon. Soon = as soon as Karen Rutherford holds up her end of the bargain.

So, please grab a' hold of your favorite safety partner and do be careful as you step over the clashing shades of red and fonts running amuck and such.

Thanks, The Management

February in Do More Review

While we continue to work out kinks in Karen 2.0, February’s release did have some solid improvements. The backup system was tested on the worst day of 2009 so far with a heated ultimatum to the Heavens. Results were favorable and though there was a meltdown, there wasn’t complete system failure. Small but steady progress was made on the experiment application and is currently at a 5.2% success rate. The procrastination issues have been fixed, for now. They will need close monitoring. The Leap philosophy has been embedded in the code and we are very pleased with its performance. We haven’t flipped the switch on the Leap feature yet, as we are preparing for a few upcoming changes.

Did I do more? I’m never sure until I recap through my gratitude journal.

I wrote, interviewed, searched, talked, looked forward to something, got fed up, wrote a tagline in a mere eight hours, didn’t watch television, went to Bloomington, worked, heard from Austin on Valentine’s Day, paid for a trip and a $400 gas bill, got taxes done, said no thank you to something not on the path, listened to a teleseminar, signed up for a class, put my best hex on a desperate boy, had a nice cry , tried a new restaurant, found the Storytelling Arts of Indiana, joined an online group, laughed at something that wasn’t especially funny, and was happy for a friend’s new house.

So, I think February was a success. Heading in the right direction and that’s what counts.

Is Al Pacino on the Facebook?

I feel like I shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t understand the facebook. I mean, I understand the term social networking, but isn’t that what telephones and email and blackberries and bluetooths and skypes and websites and blogs and ims and texts are for?

I guess this facebook is especially confusing to me, because there are games and walls and drinking and snowball fights and kidnappings and wars. It all sounds socially violent and very irresponsible to me.

But everything’s imaginary, right? So, let’s say I accepted four or five drinking requests and said yes to a snowball fight. I wouldn’t actually have to drive to the snow and the person who wants to throw a honkin’ ball of snow at me, right? Not only is that socially dangerous and illegal, it would also be very bad for my joints. (I don’t even want to know what’s involved in a mob war unless a young Al Pacino’s part of it.)

There are also constant questions about what I’m doing. Who wants to know? And why? This and the twits thing just feel awkward and creepy to me. I assume I type something in the little box, but where does it go and what's the point? I could never, ever do this. And you’re welcome.

I did, however, answer a quiz that had to be written by pre-teens about what I’m god of, even though I don’t really understand the question. I mean what could I possibly? I have no idea how it got on my page/wall/thingamajig. But anyway, I’m god of air, because it deemed me independent after it asked me if I would, with guns a'blazin', charge into a school where students were being held hostage by terrorists and I said no. Yea, explain it to me and then we’ll both understand.

So, feeling pretty confident that I’ll never belong, I’m forced to continue letting all these imaginary requests from the facebook pass me by. I don’t like being rude, but I really should watch out for my health now that I’m middle-aged and so unaware.

Empty Offices

I love an empty office. After the cleaning crew has come and emptied all the wastebaskets and turned off all the lights. I love to sit at my (temporary) desk with just one light on. It feels like night. Windows are two rows away and it’s a snowy day. It’s so quiet; I can hear the printer hum. All I hear is my own typing. I like knowing that the people who are usually here aren’t. They’re in their homes, probably just getting up or having coffee. I like that nobody knows I’m here. 

I wonder if my love of empty offices comes from memories of my father taking me to his when I was a kid. He traveled a lot during the week and would often go to his office on weekends. I don’t remember who initiated my going, but I sure am glad it worked out. 

He had a corner office with huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking one of those man-made, office park lakes. He’d let me sit at his secretary’s desk and play with the phones, the intercoms, the rolodexes, the papers. The typewriter! How I loved the typewriter. I’d take that plastic canvas cover off, plug it in and neatly stack my paper next to it. I was an expert at using those little correction paper strips that were fancy-new-fangled at the time. I’d place a strip over the wrong letters and type them again and they’d disappear. It was magic. And the office supplies! Forget about it. Hours. I’m still like a kid in a candy shop at the mere mention of the office supply cabinet. 

I ran the halls, looking in everyone’s office, getting to know them. I touched their stuff, looked at their pictures, sat in their chairs, and imagined their lives. Knowing that they couldn't possibly have the wonderful life I did. 

And here I sit forty years later in an empty office. I still look in other people’s cubicles. I still open up the supply cabinet just to window shop. I still correct my typing, just in a very different way. It’s so quiet that I can hear the clock on the wall ticking with every second. I’m sure if I closed my eyes long enough, I could hear my father calling my name from his big, important office, telling me it’s time to go home. 

Amazing Grass

In the midst of an email exchange with a friend today, we got to talking about digestive issues. 

“I’ve tried the probiotic stuff, but it didn’t help much.”

“It does seem to work for a time and then just quit. Sort of like an immunity build-up, so to speak.”

“I found this stuff called Amazing Grass at Whole Foods. But it worked well for a while and then stopped working, too.”

“Remember when amazing grass was something entirely different?”

We closed with hearty old-lady chuckles and trips to the bathroom.

Ship Coming In

According to my horoscope, my ship’s coming in tomorrow. Since I’ll be at the docks all day, I thought I should post something enlightening today. So here it is: my informal review of my new obsession, FX’s Damages.

I had no idea about Damages until I recently became a Ricky Gervais fan (I’m a late adopter, a.k.a. old person) and started reading his blog. He wrote that it was some of the most brilliant writing he’d ever experienced. So, I innocently clicked the Hulu button for Season 1, Episode 1. 

Hooked. Completely. Can’t stop. Peanut MnMs level of hooked-dom.

Yesterday, Ricky G. wrote that he was having the second season fed-ex’d. How ridiculous is that?!? :) Like Chris Rock says about OJ, “I’m not saying I could do what he did, but I understand.”

One of the writers is married to Grace, from Will and Grace. And another writer is the seemingly ("trust no one") oblivious doorman! Now, that’s funny.

And, of course, there is the burning question: What the hell happened to Glenn Close? Did someone beat her as a child? Relentlessly bully her on the playground? Lock her in a room? Chain her to a radiator? What was it that, to this day, gives this woman the endless supply of nasty she pulls from in role after role after role? I thought Cruella De Vil was bad, but this! This Patty Hughes. She’s hard to believe bad.

When Ellen asks her, “Do you regret what we did? Because I do.” and that woman looks at her and suspiciously asks, “You do?” Oh my. The icy chills. Sign me up for every episode forever and ever and ever. 

Damn you, Glenn Close. Damn you. 

On an unrelated note, at dinner last night, I was asked repeatedly about what kind of men I prefer. Huh? What kind of who do I what? It took me a few minutes to get with the program, but I came up with Craig Ferguson, Hugh Laurie and Colin Firth. And now I can’t stop laughing at my choices. I’m so obviously out of the loop. 

Then, my friend started picking out men in the packed restaurant and insisting on my reaction. I admit I sort of felt like an awkward girl of 39 again. But this must be stopped before it goes any further, because I really do like being in the house with the dog. I’ve waited on this peace for a long time. So, if (single) Craig Ferguson interrupted all this and knocked on the door and forced me to dinner and a movie, I’m afraid I’d have to say, “Thanks, Craig, but no thanks. Take all that love and admiration you have for me and move on down the road. Nobody here is interested in that stuff.” And then the dog would kill me in my sleep, because her survival of the fittest instinct told her it was the right thing to do for the betterment of my species. 

A Technical Writer's Dream

Some people think technical writing isn’t fun and exciting. To which I emphatically say, “Poppycock”. How often does this happen to you? 

Last night, I was awakened from what felt like one of those really deep sleep dreams. I was struggling with a Word table. I was rearranging columns. Inserting IP addresses. Typing in default values for things. Resizing screenshots. Centering. Bolding. Shading. 

Night before last, my alarm went off right in the middle of a masterful table of contents creation. I actually woke up and said “shit” out loud as I pushed the snooze button to try to get back to where I was so I could finish and save.

And, this weekend, I was indexing in my sleep. I know. It can’t get much better than subconscious indexing.

It was exactly what I’ve been doing lately. The kind of crazy fun that you just can't get enough of during the day and have to think about in your sleep! Night after night after night after night.

Ah, the enviable life of a technical writer. Now, you must try not to hate. This work and these dreams are reserved for special people. 

Note: Last night, I was also awakened by a second dream, though unrelated to tech writing and more scary than fun. My son’s father was moving my grandmother’s house to a small lot in a neighborhood very similar to my grandmother’s neighborhood. It was all very confusing, but I think I was moving there and I’m not 100%, but I think he was moving in, too! Writing this gives me the dry heaves. 

January in Review

February 1st marks the one-month anniversary of the release of Karen 2.0. This new version has some new features and some old kinks.

Features: It is supposed to be kinder, gentler to idiots (this has gone well, thus the use of the word idiots (actually we have noticed that it stops itself quicker when on futile tirades)). It is supposed to be working on an experiment (this has gone well and is at 4.04%). It is supposed to be more directed to writing and freelancing (this has gone well and we’ll know more as this comes together).

Kinks: Apparently, procrastination can be taken too far. We need to ask more calmly for what we need and want. We need to keep reaching out because crazy Universal connections are so meaningful and wonderful. We need to remember to repeat every minute of every day: leap and the net will appear (i.e., faith).

Kinks should be worked out soon - hopefully included in February’s service pack.